The Darkness Returns
by Eryq Tanshido
Summary: The Darkness Returns ten years after the Hellish happenings of the year 2000.
1. The Rainstorm Begins

"Deep into that darkness peering... Long I stood there... Wondering...  
Fearing... Doubting..."  
Quoted from Edgar Allen Poe's 'The Raven'  
  
Chapter One: The Rainstorm Begins  
  
And so cameth forth the year Two-Thousand Ten, and Alexandra Roivas, who had been living in the Rhode Island Roivas Mansion since early April of 2000 walked into and sat down in the study, the broken grandfather clock ticking endlessly, the hands permanently jammed at the thirty-third minute of the third hour. One of the four servants in the house was in the study, staring intently at the inside of the clock.  
  
The young man was good at fixing things like the clock, but in the eleven months he was there, he could not get the clock hands to move. He chuckled as he spotted Alex staring at him funnily. Erik Dæl O'Malley was a good handyman, skilled at repairing the smaller things that other people couldn't. Standing at 6 feet even, he was a bit tall, even for James Lagrasse, who was a mere 5 feet ten inches. He had blood red hair that fell down about his jaw, which also sometimes hid his emerald green eyes.  
  
Caitlyn Muldoon walked into the study, bowed gently to Alex, and continued over toward Erik. She whispered into his ear as he stood leaning into the Grandfather Clock. He nodded and turned his head slightly toward her as she kissed him. He smiled. Alex gasped almost silently. She had never seen Erik smile before in his life.  
  
Since her grandfather's death in late March of the year of 2000, Alexandra had scoured every source of forgotten lore in the massive house's library. What she was searching for was reality.  
  
She sat quietly, reading one of her grandfather's journals on the comparison of Sigmund Freud's outlook on human thoughts, and those of Xel'lototh, the emerald guardian whom Pious Augustus had chosen over Ulyaoth and Chattur'gha. Xel'lototh was incredibly intelligent.  
  
After the horrid happenings of that year ten years before and what she learned of the old house, she was compelled to leave and to demolish the site. However, she found love in Rhode Island. Her love was the man who brought her attention to her Grandfather's untimely demise ten years before. His name was James Lagrasse.  
  
The couple, as well as twin daughters had produced two sons. They, the children, lived and played happily in their massive home.  
  
Life seemed generally good until that night, which was an unusually dark, depressingly stormy night. The power had long since shorted and they were all gathered in the master bedroom, sixteen candles burning brightly. The four servants were in the room as well.  
  
It was a large room, the master bedroom; at least thirty by thirty feet. There was the bed, of course, which was king-size. It was centered in the west wall, facing away, a large, paned picture window above it. The bed had a curtained canopy. Across the room from the foot of the bed was a well-used fireplace, which was presently afire. To the right of the bed stood a mahogany dresser with four drawers, the top one bearing a keyhole, surrounded by supple leaf border. To the left of the large, canopied bed was an armoire, containing much of Alexandra's clothing. Several chairs and a desk, as well as paintings of old decorate the room. To the left and right of the fireplace were doors, one leading to the hall, and the other leading into a private bathroom.  
  
Seth, the oldest son, being at the manly age of eight, insisted on frightening his younger brother, Matt, by telling him false stories of ghosts and ghouls that went bump in the night. Alex remembered her last night in Los Angeles, and it wasn't entirely different than this one. Matt, who was only four, believed every word Seth had told him and hid continuously behind his father.  
  
Sara and Kel sat quietly at the foot of the king-size bed, playing with dolls meant for their tender age of 3. Caitlyn sat along side of the twins, sewing together clothing for the un-proportioned voluptuous plastic dolls. Erik was silent, as he nearly always was. He was leaned gently against Caitlyn's shoulder, watching her lithe, but nimble hands work.  
  
Tina Jean Smyth, an elderly woman, was folding washed clothing in a chair next to the fire. Fred M. Kurtz was sitting across the room, next to the door, reading a thick, leather-bound book. Fred was a strong man. He took care of all the repairs that the house needed. He also taught Erik how to repair more than simply chairs. Fred was like the father Erik ne'er had.  
  
At roughly ten-thirty, a sound, heard only by the trained ears of James, and the acute hearing abilities that Erik had, came forth from the kitchen. It sounded as though something had shattered. James and Erik looked at each other for perhaps only a second. James nodded.  
  
Under the bed, out of sight of everyone, Erik gingerly hefted a 9mm Beretta Pistol loaded with Cyanide-tipped rounds. He played this movement off as playfully pinching Caitlyn's leg, which he did. Caitlyn smiled and gently elbowed Erik in the chest. Erik smiled vaguely.  
  
James leaned back onto his pillow once his second son, Matt, had moved from behind him, hopped to the floor and moved over toward Tina. Matthew intently watched her fold the family's clothing. James turned to one side, his spinal cord releasing tension by making a grotesque popping sound. He picked up the .38 Chief's Special revolver and slid it under his pillow.  
  
Something accursed and unnatural moved around inside the family's kitchen. The window's shattered glass speckled the floor, the light produced by the brief flashes of lightning reflecting off of them. The creature was roughly four feet in height. It seemed to be nothing more than a skeleton, save for the taut flesh over its ghastly form. On inversely articulated legs, it stepped slowly, silently, as if stalking some sort of invisible prey. Two long, scythe-like arms protruded from its minute shoulders. The tips of the scythes, dug slightly into the wooden floor, aiding in the thing's walking.  
  
Slowly, it crept toward the door, the reddish-hued flesh moving across tightly bound muscles. The inhuman apparition stood somewhat clumsily on its hind legs, the arms attempting to manipulate the doorknob. After several minutes, the latch came undone, and the creature of alien nature stepped through into the dimly lit outer hall and foyer.  
  
No other noises came from the kitchen. James had long since dismissed it as a mouse or some other vermin getting into their pantry, but Erik wasn't as sure. Erik stocked the pantry and there were no breakable glass items above the second shelf, which was only two feet off the ground.  
  
James had leaned over again, popping his spine, and replaced the pistol.  
  
Alex looked at the grandmother clock on the mantle over the fireplace. It read ten forty-four at night. She tapped Seth on the shoulder and told him to go into the bathroom and get ready for bed. He, of course, complained about the task given to him, but complied after being threatened with no video games for a week.  
  
He picked up his pajamas and walked into the bathroom, flicking the light switch on as he entered and closed the door. All was silent for a long moment.  
  
The clock ticked one second and a bone-chilling scream came forth from the bathroom, followed by a thunderous thud. Erik shot up, no longer gripping the pistol, but his hands loose and rushed to the door. He arrived at the same time Alex did. Caitlyn had stopped sewing and pedaled backward, picking up a fireplace poker. Fred stood and moved swiftly to Erik and Alex's side.  
  
The clock ticked again. Alex opened the door to see Seth laying on the floor in the fetal position, his deep hazel eyes staring hopelessly emptily at the bathtub. Alex rushed to her son's side, kneeling and pressing her hand to his forehead.  
  
"Seth, are you all right?" She inquired.  
  
Erik stepped into the room, looking at the scene. There was nothing different about the bathroom, save for the fact that three people were in the room.  
  
Seth began shaking violently, staring out past his mother. He spoke shakily. "I. There was. Me. In the tub. I was. Dead. Or dying, I don't know. I was there, bathing in my own blood. Then blackness. What happened, Mommy?"  
  
"Nothing, dear. You must have imagined it," Alexandra said, hugging her son tightly to her bosom. She looked up at Erik, who was staring emotionlessly at the tub. There was no blood, no body. The room only had a vague pungent smell that Erik recognized as urine. The young man had wet himself in fear.  
  
Erik turned slowly, dropping a towel to the floor. His foot pressed on it and the imprint of his shoe absorbed some of the liquid on the floor. He dried the floor and picked up the towel, tossing it down the laundry chute into the basement.  
  
Alex picked her son up and walked from the bathroom. Erik followed, brushing his blood red hair from in front of his eyes. Caitlyn whispered to him as he sat down beside her.  
  
"What happened, Erik?" Her chocolate brown eyes stared, wide eyed at him.  
  
Erik shook his head. By the nearly vacant look in his eyes, it had been somewhat of an unforeseen experience. "Seth," he whispered, "imagined he saw himself. Dead in the tub. I'd prefer to leave it at that."  
  
Caitlyn nodded silently and slowly resumed sewing.  
  
Almost silent footfalls were the only present sound in the heavy air in the massive foyer. The creature, whose pining for blood was becoming ravenous, climbed up the stairs, watching the door. The floor creaked under its footfall, and if it were possible for such a being to vocalize vulgar expletives, it did.  
  
James looked up again, thinking he was going insane. He saw Erik also looking toward the hall door and became afraid. Perhaps something or someone was out there issuing forth such mysterious dins.  
  
Tina Smyth stood, finally finished folding the clothes, and slowly walked toward the door. She smoothed out her black and white maid dress as she moved.  
  
"Where are you off to, Tina?" Alex asked.  
  
"Just to get the young ones some warm milk and cookies. Is this all right, Miss Alex?"  
  
Alex nodded her head, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders.  
  
Tina left the room and Erik looked nervous.  
  
It hid in the shadows, keeping out of sight. It watched the elderly woman walk down the dark stairs, a candle in her hand. She stopped at the foot of the stairs for only a moment, her eyes scanning over the dark foyer. She turned right and stopped short. She hadn't remembered leaving the kitchen door open.  
  
"I must be going senile," she mumbled to herself. She walked through the door and stopped short again as she heard a crunch under her foot. She looked down as lightning flashed again. Shards of glass littered the floor.  
  
A low growl issued forth from behind her and all she felt afterwards was the mortally wounding score that was drawn across her throat.  
  
The creature behind her, now identifying itself as a Bonethief, caught her body before it struck the ground. It laid her on the floor, its horrid crimson eyes glowing brightly. It leaned down, biting at her larynx, ripping and tearing the old woman's throat out. Blood spewed ubiquitously, raining even in the far corners of the room. It hunched itself over, literally crawling down her throat, goring her insides, tearing apart her intestines, and other innards.  
  
Her body's ligaments and muscles tore grotesquely as the monster turned about inside of her half-eaten innards, adjusting itself inside the still warm body. Its long arms were inside hers; legs inside legs, and its head leaned upwards, shredding her spinal cord and brain with its horrible teeth. It finally arrived inside her skull after literally devouring her brain.  
  
Tina Jean Smyth returned to the bedroom, carrying the four glasses of milk and a plate of cookies on a silver tray. The candle was at the corner of the tray. She smiled gently as she set the tray down on the desk just next to the armoire. She backed away slowly as the four children rushed the desk, each taking up a chocolate cookie, each covered in chocolate chips.  
  
James stared at Tina, noticing that she wasn't as cheery as she usually was, even on such dreary evenings. Erik saw it, too, but he dismissed it as shock from the night's happenings.  
  
Fred stood slowly, setting his book on the table. He reached over and took a cookie, bit into it. "I'll be going to bed now. Good night, everyone."  
  
Alex nodded. "Good night, Fred."  
  
Sara and Kel both put their toys down, jumped off the bed. They ran over to Fred and hugged him up to his kneecaps. Fred smiled and patted Kel on the head softly. "Night, night, Freddy," Kel said. Fred closed the door behind him as he left.  
  
"Okay, let go of me," said Fred as he tried to shake his leg loose. Caitlyn giggled at him as she leaned against Erik's chest, leaning up to kiss his chin.  
  
Erik said nothing, but allowed another vague smile to come to his lips. He watched Sara walk toward Tina. She hugged Tina around her legs and looked up at her. "Tina," Sara said in her meek voice. "Can you read me a bed time story?"  
  
Tina's head shifted to look at Sara. They began to softly glow red, but dimmed after a moment. Sara backed away, bumping into the desk. The candle tipped over and fell, the flame going out before it and the brass holder clattered to the floor. Alex and James looked over.  
  
"Sara, look at what you did. Pick that up this instant," Alexandra said.  
  
"But, but mommy! Tina." Sara started.  
  
James interrupted his daughter. "You heard your mother. Don't blame it on Tina."  
  
Sara picked up the candle and set it back on the desk. She then proceeded to run over to Seth and hug him. If James didn't know better, he'd say that her face looked as though terror had occupied her expression.  
  
Kel walked to Tina and also hugged her.  
  
Tina loosed a demonic howl of rage as she kicked Kel off her leg and sent her flying. Kel was thrown across the bedroom and landed inside the fireplace. When she hit, there was a burst of flame from the fireplace as emberous hunks of burning wood catapulted from the wood rack. Kel landed under one of the burning wedges of wood.  
  
Erik stood quickly, knocking away the burning piece of wood. He picked it up, burning his hands, and flung it into the fireplace. He picked up Kel and hugged her, smothering the flames burning on the back of her pajamas.  
  
Kel was crying loudly, as was Sara. Seth was too shocked to do anything, and Matt screamed, diving under a chair. Alex ran over to Erik and Kel as James stood, knocking Tina back.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" James yelled, putting his hands up before him in a defensive stance. Tina swung her fist at him, and James dodged it. Caitlyn picked up the fireplace poker again and positioned it between herself and Tina.  
  
Erik watched in horror as Tina picked up the silver tray on which the cookies were, and threw it at James. He was unable to defend himself against that many projectiles. He went down, shattered glass getting in his eyes.  
  
Tina turned her demonic red eyes on Caitlyn next. She began walking toward the sixteen year old. Erik nearly roared in fury as he chambered and then let loose a sidekick that the sensei taught him at the orphanage, aimed at Tina's head.  
  
Her head literally tore off and minimal amounts of blood spattered the wall behind her. The demon inside of her body gashed though the bones, muscles, ligaments, and skin that prevented it from being seen. In an appalling display of shattered bones, torn flesh, and blood, the Bonethief showed itself, preparing to leap at the one responsible for exposing it: Erik.  
  
"What in the fuck is that?" Erik exclaimed, his emerald green eyes widened. The accursed creature promptly leaped upon Erik's chest. Erik moved his head closer to the red-fleshed being, knowing somehow that the scythe-like arms would kill him if they had the chance. He wasn't entirely fast enough. The blades' edges dug deeply into his back, leaving deep gashes in his shoulder blades.  
  
With a deeply rooted cry of rage, Erik heaved the being off of him, sending it crashing into the wall. He took the few seconds he was given to dive for the bed. He reached under and picked up the 9mm pistol. He rolled onto his back, took aim, and fired ten times into the thing's chest.  
  
The Bonethief fell to the floor, blood seeping from the single, wide wound in its chest. All ten cyanide-tipped rounds pierced its chest in relatively the same place. Erik collapsed, his emerald green eyes closing. He passed out. 


	2. The Healing Measure

Chapter Two: The Healing Measure  
  
Although his hands scarred severely by the burns from a week before, Erik stood in back of the house, a large ax in his hands. He lifted it and swung downward, splitting the log in half. His back was incredibly sore and it bled occasionally and uncontrollably. He set up one of the halves and split it. He placed the other on the chopping block, and swung. It split, the two halves flying in opposite directions.  
  
He set the ax down and leaned over, picking up the quarters of wood, and setting them onto the woodpile. He sat down on the chopping block, hunched over, massaging his own hands. Fred walked up behind Erik and tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
Erik looked up, his expression impassive.  
  
"You look like shit, Erik. Go inside and get some rest. Caitlyn told me to come out here and take over for you. I think she wants to talk to you."  
  
"Thanks, Fred." Erik said slowly, glumly almost. He stood, pulling the gray tank top back into place. It had fallen into disarray as he chopped nearly a cord and a half of wood. It was also drenched in sweat. His jeans were somewhat dirty, covered in wood splinters. Brushing his pants off, he walked toward the house. He had been outside for nearly five hours, just chopping wood.  
  
Several times did his hands split open and bleed horridly. His back did the same, but always stopped. He stopped at the door, picked up the bottle of water he left there five hours before. He took a long drink from it and returned it as he opened the door.  
  
There had been a door installed in the kitchen wall to allow easier access to the backyard. He walked inside, closing the door behind him. Sara ran past him, slapping his leg. "You're it!" She yelled, giggling as she ran by. Erik chuckled quietly and patted her head after she took her arm away. "Darn it!" Sara giggled and went to tackle her brother.  
  
She's taking it well, Erik thought. He walked through the kitchen, hesitating only a moment to ruffle Matt's hair. He made no sound whatsoever and continued concentrating on what he was building with the plastic blocks. Erik stopped as he reached the door. "Caitlyn?" He yelled.  
  
"Up here, Erik," she responded from Kel's room. Erik walked up the stairs, stepping up two and three at a time. He came to a halt and turned, opening Kel's door more. Erik looked at Caitlyn, walked behind her. He pressed his body against hers, his arms wrapping around her waist.  
  
"You called?" Erik wasn't entirely surprised as she kissed him. Kel was asleep in the bed, resting, just as she more commonly did now since that horrid night. Erik remembered the third-degree burns that covered ninety percent of her back  
  
"Look at her back, Erik. Pull back the blanket."  
  
Erik reached over and used the tips of his fingers to pull away the blanket. He gasped loudly. Kel's entire back was clean, pure and smooth as if nothing ever happened. Not even a scar marred her back.  
  
"How?" Erik looked at his own hands. They were still slightly bloody from all of the wood he chopped, and the scars would never go away. He even touched Kel's back. It was smooth.  
  
"I don't know." Caitlyn put the blanket back up over Kel's back.  
  
Erik stepped away, his blood red hair hanging over his face as he looked down at his own hands. So horridly damaged, they were. Blood still ran down his arms from the reopened wounds. Caitlyn took him by the shoulder.  
  
"You need to rest, Erik. You've been pushing yourself too hard. Clean your hands off, too." She pushed him gently, playfully toward the bathroom next to Kel's room. She switched on the light and Erik leaned on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
"I'm fine, Caitlyn. My hands will heal in time."  
  
"Yes, but not without proper care!"  
  
Erik growled teasingly and put his hands under the faucet. Caitlyn turned it on. Ice-cold water ran over his hands. Time seemed to freeze for just a moment as the water literally turned blue. The remarkable color change also brought about something else. As the sapphire-shaded water ran over his scars and blisters, they began closing as though something supernatural were speeding the recovery of his hands. Erik's wounds closed and his eyes opened wide. He pulled his hands from the water, staring at the healed burns.  
  
"What in the name of." Erik stared at the phenomenon as though his hands might turn into crab claws. His hands were callused, just as they were before the Night of Terror.  
  
Caitlyn stared disbelievingly at Erik's miraculous recovery. "Erik, it's official. I'm scared out of my mind," she said as she ran her fingers over his smooth hands.  
  
Erik half-whispered, "This is like some. Bizarre movie or book."  
  
She looked at the water again and lifted an eyebrow. Erik followed her gaze. The water had gone clear again.  
  
James stood slowly, laughing as he finished reading the newspaper. He closed it and set it down on the chair. He looked to his lovely wife, Alexandra Roivas Lagrasse. He walked to her, leaned down, and kissed her cheek softly.  
  
Alex giggled, the stubble on James' chin scratching her smooth flesh of her cheek. She looked up at him, her eyes widened slightly. "I haven't giggled since I was twelve."  
  
James smiled affectionately. The white patch over his left eye had barely any blood on the gauze. It had long since stopped bleeding, but he kept it over his eye just incase the scabs around his eye broke open.  
  
They were in the private study behind the clock's secret door. Alex was leaning over the Tome of Eternal Darkness, the accursed volume of hell that brought on the demonic happenings of the year 2000.  
  
Although she no longer dreamed the lives of the people, most of which were long since dead, she still studied the book, hoping she missed something that may give her more answers. James turned from the horrid book and busied himself cleaning the room. Even after ten years, the study was still a hellish mess.  
  
Placed upon the west wall, centered in a large picture frame was the Gladius that she found in relatively the same place. To its right was still the horrid picture of the Tower of Flesh, which was architecturally drawn by the steady hand of Edward Roivas from the accursed pages of the Tome.  
  
Alex shuddered to this day every time she saw the picture. She hated to think of how many people starved to death within that evil edifice to structuralize it's substantial height.  
  
James walked behind Alexandra and began rubbing her shoulders gently. She peered up into his dark eyes with a wanting gaze. He nodded and they left the study wordlessly, their arms around each other's waists. 


	3. The Maelstrom

Chapter Three: The Maelstrom  
  
Matthew sat quietly in the dining room, playing with plastic building materials on the hardwood table. Several times, his sister, Sara, scurried through the kitchen, chasing Seth. He barely was mindful of Erik's disheveling of his hair.  
  
Piece by piece, he snapped together a large airplane and rolled it across the table slowly. He smiled for the first time in a week. His smile was short lived, however, as he felt another presence in the room.  
  
A shiver went down his spine as though there were eyes on watching him. Matt turned slowly and met eyes with something beyond accursed, defiled, and demonic. Its horrid radiant green eyes glowed brightly, a beacon of evil light. Matt inhaled sharply, a gasp, and his nostrils were immediately attacked by the fetid stench that the like of which was only smelled in an underground tomb.  
  
He fell backwards, the oak chair clattering luridly to the hardwood floor. His head hit the floor with a thud and his vision blackened around the edges, the center of his line of sight blurring slightly. He sat up to see what looked like a mummy, wrapped scrappily in decaying gauze. Its green- tinted flesh smelled of a thousand years of undeath. The unblinking eyes stared dreadfully into Matt's, making him suddenly believe again in his older brother's stories.  
  
Matt was speechless, so close to what he believed to be the manifestation of Death itself. He was petrified where he lay, unable to shake the shock of thudding to the floor.  
  
The zombie clambered closer to Matt, then stopped, its eyes turning to the airplane that the child had just built. It picked the airplane up, looking at it, almost fascinated with the plastic shape.  
  
Matt found his voice finally and screamed at the top of his lungs. Within three seconds, he heard the heavy thuds of Erik and James running from upstairs, both running down the stairs. The zombie-like being skulked closer to Matt, and in anger, flung the airplane across the room, shattering its body into simple shapeless building block clusters. Another five feet and it would be close enough to tear the young child limb from limb.  
  
Erik and James arrived in the left and right doorways into the kitchen and dining room, respectively. Neither of them was prepared for the sight to see. The zombie stepped closer, dragging behind itself, its right foot. It kept shuffling toward Matt, as though he were its sole target.  
  
Matt scrambled backwards, hiding between the stove and hutch, glanced over to the backdoor as it opened not two feet behind the undead being. Fred stood there, wide-eyed. He nearly dropped the ax in his hand, but then raised it again and swung hard. The dulled blade pierced through the rotted flesh, shattering bones. Everything from the waist up dropped to the floor.  
  
Matt was hysterical, watching the legs take a last step before they crumpled to the floor. All was silent for a moment, save for Matthew's quiet sobbing, before the zombie's arm moved again, dragging the torso across the floor, approaching Matt. The thing grabbed the child's leg and James was the first to take action. He stepped around the table between the zombie and his son and pressed the heel of his shoe to the thing's neck.  
  
"Die. Again," he said as he stepped down and put all of his weight on his right foot. He heard bones crack sickeningly under his heel and he shuddered disgustedly.  
  
Matt began to cry loudly then, covering his eyes with his hands. Erik slumped against the doorframe, staring uselessly at the chaotic scene. Death had nearly come to another of the household and there was little he could have done about it.  
  
James was leaned over his youngest son. "Fred. Remove that.that thing from my kitchen. Burn it, slash it, I don't care what you do, just get rid of it."  
  
"Yes, sir," Fred whispered as he inhaled a deep breath of fresh air from the door. He held it and picked up the corpse's shambled remains. After a few minutes, the smell of fire invaded their nostrils. Fred returned, his sleeve drawn down to his palm and placed over his nose. "Disgusting being, that," he said as he walked slowly out of the kitchen, looking incredibly tired.  
  
Alex had entered the room just as Fred left, fixing her belt. Caitlyn, Seth, and Sara had also assembled at the doors, mere onlookers on the scene. 


End file.
